Sirius Black: An Animagus' Tale
by Sharon Rose Black
Summary: The story of Sirius Black, from childhood until the fall.
1. Chapter 1: The Ghost in the Attic

**Genre: **General

**Rating: **M

**Disclaimer: **The Harry Potter Universe and everything within it belong to J.K. Rowling, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, and several other entities. This work is a labor of love, and I'm making no money from it.

**Dedications: **To all of my Potter Peeps, especially those who have been with me through thick and thin. Love you all.

**Chapter 1: The Ghost in the Attic**

To those who could see it (and few people could), Number 12 Grimmauld Place looked like an ordinary townhouse in the midst of an affluent, historical neighborhood. But to Sirius Black, the dark-haired, gray-eyed boy who lived there, the house felt like a prison. Not as harsh as Azkaban-which he'd seen but once looming grey and ominous in the distance, or even as Nurmengaard, where half-bloods and muggleborns had been imprisoned long ago for what his parents assured him was "the greater good." The most accurate comparison would be to that of a reformatory: stern, cold, and intolerant; as was the couple who owned it.

On the outside, the tall, brownstone building-with its tiny front and back gardens-was surrounded by a high, black, wrought iron fence, complete with spikes and a padlocked gate. On the inside, the dark patterned wallpaper, the narrow hallways, the high ceilings, the antique furniture, and the heavy green velvet draperies (which Mrs. Black insisted remain shut at all times) made the place feel dark, gloomy, and suffocating.

Grimmauld Place was hot and stuffy in the summer; chilly and desolate in the winter, but always it retained its air of forbidding gloom. It was kept immaculate by the family's house-elf, Kreacher, who happily did anything his dear mistress asked. Anything, that is, except for taking care of the "nasty brat" (as he often called Sirius), when Master worked late and Mistress was ill, although Kreacher adored her too much to ever complain to her.

Sirius didn't know why, but he noticed that his mother usually fell ill when his father _did _work late. He also knew when she was getting sick even before _she_ did, because her symptoms followed a pattern. First, she smelled funny, even nasty at times. Then she would begin to stagger and when she talked, her speech grew more and more slurred and incoherent. The things she said at this time ranged from silly to cruel, and if either he or Regulus challenged what she said in any way, she rewarded them with a slap across the face. Oddly enough, though, Sirius never saw her strike Kreacher, who would tenderly escort her to her chambers, put her to bed, then instruct the boys not to disturb her because her "illness had flared."

. Sirius also noticed that his tall, regal mother and his handsome, gregarious father behaved differently around people than they did when they were in private. Whenever they went to Diagon Alley (which wasn't often) or entertained people in their house (usually family, but sometimes important people from the Ministry of Magic), they were exceedingly polite to each other and to everyone else. But as soon as they were alone, they would belittle the very people to whom they had been so pleasant. Always, they wanted to give outsiders the impression that they were the perfect family—no problems or undercurrents—but on many occasions Sirius awoke to the sounds of his mother screeching:

"YOU FILTHY BASTARD! HOW MANY OTHER MUDBLOOD WHORES HAVE YOU FUCKED!" she would shriek. The shrieking was usually followed by a loud, shattering crash or sometimes a thump, then by a tirade from his father combined with more shrieking, and sometimes sobbing, from his mother.

Sirius didn't understand what they were saying, but was certain they were horrible insults, the type of things you didn't say to people you loved. And your parents were supposed to love one another…_weren't they_…Sirius wondered, wrapping his pillow around his head, trying to escape the sound of their anger… wishing, with all of his heart, that he could escape this very house…

For good!

Sirius knew there was no escaping this prison of a house. Once he had tried to run away to Uncle Alphard's, but Kreacher had apprehended him, dragging him home where his father sat waiting with the strap. But sometimes he escaped to the attic when his parents engaged in one of their nocturnal battles. He tried to persuade Regulus to come as well, but while Regulus enjoyed visiting the attic in the daytime, he vehemently refused to do so at night.

The attic was dark, cold, and crammed with furniture and other relics his family had cast aside. However, it was quiet, and Sirius was, at least, usually able to get a good night's sleep there. One night, however, his parents' fighting had been so horrific that all Sirius could do was curl up beneath the dusty comforter on the discarded trundle-bed he'd claimed for himself and shudder.

He had lain awake for hours when he heard a voice in the darkness. "I used to come here, too, once upon a time."

Sirius jolted. Before him stood the translucent figure of a boy about his age. His short, black hair was neatly combed, although a few unruly locks curled loosely around the forehead of his ashen, eerily angelic face. His gray-eyes, resting on high cheekbones, were very much like Sirius' own. He had a straight, finely cut nose, and his lips were full and curled. He wore a black, old-fashioned suit, complete with a ruffled collar, matching ruffled sleeves, and knee-length pants, although his calves and feet were bare. For some reason, the boy seemed vaguely familiar to Sirius, although he couldn't remember for the life of him where he had seen him.

"Who _are_ you?" Sirius asked, unafraid, yet clearly startled. "What's your name?"

The other boy giggled, his childish laughter ringing through the cramped attic like that of a small glass bell. It was a pleasant sound, yet the hair on the back of Sirius' neck prickled as the child flitted about like a bird freed from his cage. Then, abruptly, he stopped.

"What's yours?" he asked seriously.

Then, as suddenly as he appeared, the child vanished, leaving Sirius lying wide awake, puzzled, in the attic's darkness.

Sirius knew he had seen a ghost. He'd heard about them many times, and unlike most muggle children felt no fear of them. He also knew what they were. Spirits of people, wizards specifically, who had chosen, for one reason or another, to remain behind after they died.

This troubled Sirius, although he couldn't find the words to explain why, even to himself. He wondered who the child was. Why had he died so young, and why was he here at Grimmauld Place? Why had he chosen to stay behind when death, at least according to Uncle Alphard, was the greatest adventure of all?

"Naughty little Frankie has broken three of his father's most important rules," the pompous man in the portrait trilled. "As punishment, his father whips him with the strap: once for every year that he is old, and three times for every infraction. If Frankie is eight years old, how many times… Master Sirius! Are you paying attention?"

Sirius jolted upright in the small wooden desk, looking at the bearded portrait in front of him.

"Forgive me, Grandfather Phineas. I…didn't sleep well last night!" he said, by way of explanation.

"I didn't sleep well last night," Professor Phineas Nigellus Black sneered. "That certainly isn't any excuse to fall asleep in my class! Why, when I was Headmaster of Hogwarts, it was the thumbscrews for any student with the audacity to snooze during a lecture! And if your parents send you to Durmstrang, you will be lashed!"

Sirius, having heard these words often, mouthed silently along with Grandfather Phineas as he spoke them. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Regulus, sitting in the desk next to him, biting his lip and turning red in the face.

Phineas suddenly stopped pontificating and glared at the elder of his two young descendants. "Dare you mock me, boy?" he snapped.

Sirius met the eyes of his ancestor, widening his own in feigned innocence. "Would I do that?" he asked, as Regulus stifled a giggle.

"And _you!"_ Phineas said, rounding on Regulus. "Exactly what do you find so amusing?"

"N-n-nothing!" Regulus stammered, looking down at the marred desktop.

Sirius didn't understand why Regulus was so easily intimidated by the portrait. After all, it was _only _a portrait. It wasn't as though Grandfather Phineas could actually step through the frame and mete out the punishments he repeatedly advocated…

But then again, he _could_ speak to their parents, and Sirius certainly didn't relish the thought of facing _their_ punishments. His father wasn't so bad because his punishment was at least predictable; same, in fact, to those of the fictitious Little Frankie's. But he never hit his sons hard enough to leave a mark, and said nothing more about the incident unless it was repeated.

His mother, however, would lash out at them in wild, unbridled anger, sometimes striking them about the head with _The Daily Prophet,_ at other times striking them across the face, sometimes cutting their cheeks with the heavy rings that she wore when she backhanded them. It was usually he, not Regulus, who was the object of her wrath. "WHAT A HORRIBLE, UNGRATEFUL LITTLE SNOT YOU ARE!" she would screech, ranting of all of his faults and previous transgressions, sometimes shaking him until his teeth rattled. Always, she ended the tirade with the same sentence: "YOU'RE JUST LIKE YOUR GODDAMMED FATHER!"

But Phineas Nigellus only sighed. "Whatever am I to do with you two scamps! As members of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, you two will be expected to stand head and shoulders above your peers once you begin attending Hogwarts! How," he said, looking directly at Sirius, "do you expect to do that when you're constantly falling asleep during your lessons?"

"But Sir," Sirius argued. "We already know more than most boys our age."

Sirius spoke the truth. He was nine, and Regulus was almost eight, but both brothers were already well versed in core curriculum classes such as reading, writing, and arithmetic. They also knew a bit of Latin, the language upon which magic was based. Sirius already knew the basics of Arithmancy and Ancient Runes—two courses that weren't even offered at Hogwarts until a student reached their third year—and Regulus, too, had recently been introduced to their concepts. Although students were forbidden to practice magic outside of school, their father had charmed the house so the Ministry of Magic, the organization for which their father worked, was unable to detect any spells that were cast within its walls. Consequently, at Phineas' urging, both boys already knew simple transfiguration spells.

These accomplishments were the result of long hours in the makeshift classroom—a long, narrow chamber with yellow-flowered wallpaper that had, years ago, belonged to their great-great aunt Isla (she had, as Grandfather Phineas mentioned many times, been disowned by the family for marrying a "filthy muggle" named Bob Hitchens). Often, they were forced to sit in the classroom for eight, sometimes ten, hours every day, since their parents were both against allowing them to squander their youths engaging in frivolous activities. Sometimes, the boys were allotted free time on Saturdays and Sundays, but only if they had behaved themselves and not broken any rules the previous week. And try as he might, Sirius often fell short of this prerequisite.

Sirius heard the door open behind him. He turned his head and saw Kreacher enter. The house elf shut the door softly behind him, remaining silent until Grandfather Phineas addressed him.

"Mistress tells me to call the young masters down to dinner now," he replied, leaving as silently as he appeared.

Phineas drew a gold watch from his pocket and sighed. "Yes, I do suppose it is time. But be back in an hour, boys, and not one second later."

Sometimes, their mother would eat her noonday meal in the dining room, where she required Sirius and Regulus to join her. On such occasions, she expected the boys to sit straight in their chairs and use their very best table manners. But today, she requested to be served in her chambers, so Sirius and Regulus ate in the kitchen, which Sirius definitely preferred.

The two brothers sat side by side on the bench of the gray, weather-beaten table while Kreacher served them their meal, which consisted of split pea soup, prawn and egg sandwiches, unsweetened hot tea, and an orange for dessert.

Regulus looked disappointed, but he picked up his spoon and began to eat without complaining. Sirius, however, pulled his worst face. "Split pea _soup? Again?" _he groaned.

"Nasty brat!" Kreacher hissed in his direction. "Always complaining of the food that poor Kreacher so painstakingly prepares!"

"But we had this yesterday! And the day before, and the day before that!" Sirius argued.

"Mistress adores split-pea soup," Kreacher replied patiently, although his voice had taken on a malicious edge. "Tis her favorite!"

"But…wouldn't it be nice to have tomato bisque, or chicken noodle, or vegetable beef?" Sirius asked. "Just for a _change?"_

"If Mistress requests Kreacher to serve something different, then Kreacher will happily do so," the house elf replied. "Perhaps Young Master would like to ask this of her?"

"Um…no," Sirius replied. Judging from the tirade his mother had given his father last night, she would probably slap him and scream at him for complaining about the food.

"Very well, then," Kreacher muttered, then bowed and disappeared. Disgusted, but ravenously hungry from having missed breakfast, Sirius tucked into his soup.

After they finished dinner, Regulus followed Sirius as he climbed upstairs to the study and cracked the shudders. He was disappointed to find that it was still raining, but not overtly so, since he and Regulus were rarely allowed to go further than the tiny back garden. The flowery, cobblestone courtyard offered little in the way of running space, although it was the perfect place for his cousins, Bellatrix and Narcissa, to hold their tea parties.

"Let's go play in the attic," Sirius suggested.

Regulus shook his head.

"Come on, Reg," Sirius coaxed. "There's nothing to be scared of."

"Y-yes there is!" Regulus said.

"What?"

"A-a-a ghost!"

"So…"

"He's…he's bad, Sirius! _Bad!"_

Sirius shrugged. "I didn't think so. He's just a ghost."

"You mean…you _know _about him?"

"I've seen him."

Regulus looked terrified. "You…you didn't talk to him, d-d-did you?"

"Just for a moment. Funny thing is…"

But Regulus began to cry.

"Merlin's beard!" Sirius snapped impatiently, echoing one of Uncle Alphard's favorite expressions. "What are you on about?"

"B-b-bella!"

"Bella? What's _she_ got to do with it?"

"I…I can't _tell _you, Sirius! It's too…too…_scary!"_

"Reg," Sirius said, shaking his head, "You won't last two seconds at Hogwarts! What will you do when Sir Nicholas pulls off his head, or the Bloody Baron…"

"They don't scare me," Regulus said. "But…but _he_ does."

"Why?"

"I…I can't…"

"Young Masters," Kreacher called from the doorway, "Professor Phineas said its time to resume your lessons now."

The rest of the afternoon was long and tiresome. Sirius and Regulus took turns reciting their lessons before the portrait of their grandfather, who scolded Regulus for not being as attentive as he usually was. Sirius knew Regulus was still worried about the ghost, but why the ghost frightened him Sirius could only guess. Once or twice he started to ask Grandfather Phineas, but Grandfather Phineas only ignored his raised hand and urged them along in their lessons.

Finally, Kreacher called the boys down for tea, ushering them into the ornate dining room where their parents sat waiting for them at opposite ends of the table. Their father drank slowly from a tall mug of ale while their mother slowly sipped a glass of red wine. "Take your seats, boys!" their father ordered, and Sirius noticed that he seemed unusually stern. "Regulus, sit up straight! Sirius, I am not going to tell you again to keep your elbows off of the table. Do you understand me?"

"Yes Father," the boys said nervously, in unison.

Sirius and Regulus sat silently throughout the meal, speaking only if spoken to, as their father firmly believed that children should be seen and not heard. They watched their manners carefully as they ate their vegetable soup, lamb chops, creamed peas, and mashed potatoes. For dessert, Kreacher served a custard tart—a favorite of their father's.

The meal, though more satisfying than dinner, was far too reserved for Sirius' liking. He wished that his parents, if only once in a while, could be persuaded to let them eat outdoors, cooking hot dogs, hamburgers, and marshmallows over an open fire like they did when he visited Uncle Alphard. But Uncle Alphard had advised him against asking. "They'll sneer and call it muggle food," he explained, laughing. "And then you'll get a lecture about how all the poor hungry wizard children in Albania would give their eye teeth for what poor Kreacher serves you every night. And _that's _if they're in a _good _mood!"

"I'd owl it to them," Sirius had replied, licking what was left of a burnt, melted marshmallow off of his finger, "If I could eat _this_ every day!"

"Coffee, Master?" Kreacher spoke, jolting Sirius from his reverie.

Their father nodded.

"And tea for you, dear Mistress?" Kreacher asked, turning to their mother.

Their mother also nodded, adding, "Please."

Kreacher bowed and left, returning a few moments later with the coffee, tea, and the evening edition of _The Daily Prophet._ He served their mother first, then their father, handing him the newspaper before he disappeared. Their father took a sip of his coffee then glanced at the paper, grimacing as he read the headline.

"Orion, what is it?" their mother asked.

Their father took his wand out of his pocket, lifted the newspaper, and sent it across the table to their mother. Her gray eyes widened when she saw the headlines, "Knights of Walpurgis Raided. Eleven Held for Questioning," and seemed to grow more troubled the further they traveled down the page.

"Merlin," she whispered, setting the newspaper aside.

"You may be excused, boys," their father said shortly. "Off to bed."

Ordinarily, Sirius would have sighed with relief. Sometimes, their parents would make them sit at the table until they finished their tea and coffee—something both boys hated—but tonight he was disappointed. Who were these Knights of Walpurgis, why were they being questioned, and why did it upset their parents? He glanced at Regulus, who looked curious as well.

"Did you _hear _me, boys?" their father repeated. "I said 'off to bed!'"

"Yes father," both boys said quickly.

"Be sure to take your baths," their mother called after them.

"And brush your teeth," their father added.

"Yes, Father. Yes, Mother," the boys answered in turn. But after they closed the dining room door, Sirius knelt to the floor and pressed his ear to the keyhole.

"Sirius, come _on!"_ Regulus hissed.

Sirius waved his younger brother away, straining to hear if his parents would discuss the matter more.

"I was there when they brought them into the Ministry today," their father finally said. "I planned to tell you after we sent the boys to bed."

Their mother was silent, then simply asked, "What do you suppose will happen?"

"They'll be released," their father replied.

"And if they're sent to Azkaban?"

"They will be freed…when the time is right."

"I hope you're right," their mother sighed. "Blood seems to count less and less with each passing day. We need people like them fighting for us if we hope to preserve…"

Sirius jumped, feeling the sting of a small switch across his shins. Turning, he saw Kreacher looking at him angrily.

"'T isn't nice for Young Master to eavesdrop!" he hissed.

"Sorry Kreacher," Sirius whispered.

"It's 'I'm sorry, Kreacher,' Young Master." Kreacher corrected him nastily.

"Sorry…I mean, I'm sorry, Kreacher," Sirius replied.

Kreacher's eyes narrowed. "Young Masters better be off to bed," he hissed again, "unless you want Kreacher to tell Master and Mistress that you were spying on them."

Sirius needed no further prodding. He and Regulus turned away the door and trudged guiltily up the stairs…

After he had bathed, Sirius lay awake in his bedroom, reveling in being away from the rest of the family. Once he had shared a room with Regulus, but after Uncle Alphard bought a house of his own, Sirius had been allowed to move into his old bedroom. Later, after their mother and Uncle Cygnus had Grandfather Pollux committed to St. Mungo's with Zauberhaft's Syndrome (his mother and Uncle Cygnus had wasted _no_ time in that, Sirius remembered), Regulus had been given his room. Now, the room the boys had formerly shared served as a guest room when the family had overnight company.

Sirius' room was a grand room, with gray-and-silver wallpaper, red velvet draperies, and heavy oak furniture. The red-and-gold patterned carpet matched the bedspread, and his Uncle had "accidentally" (so he'd claimed, winking at Sirius) stuck his house banner on the wall with a permanent sticking charm. Uncle Alphard had been sorted into Gryffindor, not Slytherin, much to Grandfather Pollux's and Grandmother Irma's disappointment.

"There's an oddity in every generation, or so it seems," Grandfather Pollux had mused over a family dinner, shortly after Sirius' cousin Andromeda was sorted into Ravenclaw.

"In this generation, there better be _only_ one," their father had said pointedly, glaring at both Sirius and Regulus.

But Sirius, who idolized his Uncle Alphard, secretly hoped he _would_ be sorted into Gryffindor. Of course he'd be punished, but the benefits seemed worthwhile...

The sounds of footsteps on the floor below, and of Kreacher speaking soothingly to his mother as he led her to her bed, interrupted Sirius' thoughts. A few moments later, he heard a faint knock on the heavy oak door, followed by his brother's timid voice. "Sirius? C-c-can I come in?"

Sirius rose from the bed and cracked open the door. "What do you want, Reg?" he asked, annoyed.

"C-c-can I sleep with you tonight?" Regulus asked, shaking.

Sirius started to say no, but his younger brother looked so upset and frightened that he hadn't the heart to refuse.

"I suppose," he sighed impatiently, stepping aside.

Regulus entered the room, shaking uncontrollably. "What's wrong?" Sirius asked.

"N-n-nothing," Regulus replied.

Sirius wasn't convinced. "Yes there is. Hey, I know…I'll read "The Warlock and His Hairy…"

"Nooooooo," Regulus wailed, starting to cry.

"Reg, you love that story," Sirius said, taken aback.

"N-n-not no m-m-more!" Regulus sobbed uncontrollably. "H-hate it now!"

Sirius shook his head. "Reg, what's the matter? Earlier today you didn't want to go up to the attic with me, now you don't want to hear your favorite story…"

"I…I…I just don't want…"

"You just don't want what? Common, Reg, tell me!"

"I…I…I don't wanna _die!" _Regulus wailed, throwing his arms around his older brother's neck. "And I don't want _you_ to die, either."

Sirius stiffened. "Crikey!" he said, echoing one of Uncle Alphard's favorite expressions. "Who said anything about dying?"

"Buh-buh-bella!" Regulus wailed again.

Sirius was quiet for a moment. "Bella? You know she lies all the time, Reg! Don't you remember the time she told us…"

"T-t-this is different!" Regulus sobbed. "You talked to the…the…the _ghost!"_

"And?"

"And now you're gonna die, and I will too if I ever talk to him!"

"What are you on about…"

"It's true, Sirius. Bella says that she and Talitha went up there one day…"

"Who's Talitha?"

"Bella's big sister!"

"Bella doesn't _have_ a big sister!"

"Not no more…she died before we were born, 'cause of the ghost!"

Regulus stood there crying. Sirius waited for him to calm down. "Okay, Reg. If it's true, why didn't Bella die too?"

"Cause she didn't talk to the ghost. Talitha did. You only die if you talk to the ghost, and since you did…" Regulus started to sob again!

Sirius hated to admit it, but he felt a little unnerved. True, Bellatrix was a liar, but what if…just what if…she was actually telling the truth this time? He thought of who they might ask. Their mother and father always seemed so unapproachable; and he didn't like asking Kreacher about anything. Uncle Alphard might know, but usually took several weeks to write back. The sooner Regulus (and he himself, he had to admit) knew, the better they both would feel.

Then Sirius thought of someone…someone who seemed to know all the answers, about everything. "Come on!" he said resolutely, grabbing his younger brother's arm.

"W-w-where are we going?" Regulus hiccupped.

"To Grandfather Phineas. He'll know the truth. And if it is true, which I know it isn't, he'll know what to do!"

Regulus sniffed and followed his brother down the stairs to the schoolroom, but once they arrived, Grandfather Phineas had already left the portrait. And he didn't return, no matter how much the boys pleaded.

"He's probably at Hogwarts," Sirius reasoned. "Never mind. We'll ask him about this tomorrow."

The boys turned and started back to Sirius' bedroom. But before they reached the stairs, they bumped into their father, who looked at both boys suspiciously.

"Where do the two of you think you're going?" he demanded.

"J-just to the toilet," Sirius stammered, smelling the ale on his father's breath.

Their father looked first at Sirius, then at Regulus. Sirius knew his father wasn't convinced by the look in his eye.

"The two of you have a perfectly good toilet on the fourth floor," he said simply. "Have you forgotten where it's located?"

"I…" Sirius said, then shrugged.

"I want both of you in bed!" their father said simply. "Do you understand me?"

"Yes Father," the boys answered quickly.

"And I mean to your _own_ rooms!" their father added, glaring heavily at Regulus. "I'll not have you turn into a sniveling, spineless coward who is afraid to sleep by himself!"

Regulus swallowed. "Yes father," he said meekly.

Sirius lay awake in the darkness, thinking about the story Bellatrix had told Regulus. The clock downstairs chimed eleven times, and then he heard his father's footsteps on the floor below, followed by the opening and shutting of his door. A few minutes later, he heard a faint knock.

Sirius had expected it. He pulled himself out of bed and once again opened the door to his younger brother, allowing him to crawl into bed beside him. Protectively, Sirius looped his arm around Regulus, and moments later, the two of them fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2: Wedding Plans

**Chapter 2: Wedding Plans**

Sirius and Regulus were standing alone in the attic together, waiting for the little ghost to appear.

"Nooooo…" Regulus kept saying. "Don't wanna be here!"

"There's nothing to be scared of, Reg," Sirius said confidently. "He won't hurt us. I think he's just lonely."

They waited awhile longer, and sure enough, the little ghost appeared once again. But just as Regulus seemed to relax, the ghost smiled rather ghoulishly, then started to cackle. Next he transfigured into Bellatrix, who brandished her wand at the boys…

Sirius saw a flash of red light. The next thing he knew, he had somehow turned into a black, shaggy dog. Night had fallen, and he was running through the forest beside a stag, a rat, and a wolf. A giant basilisk with red, glowing eyes reared its head before them as they came an overgrowth of brush, where a doe lay hiding with her small fawn.

Sirius knew that he, the stag, the rat, and the wolf had to protect the doe and her fawn. But to Sirius' horror, the snake breathed green fire upon the stag, causing the stag to fall dead, even as the rat ran away, squealing in fright…

Sirius broke ranks with the wolf and ran to where the doe and her fawn were hiding. But when he arrived, the doe also lay dead, while the snake lay motionless nearby. The fawn rose frantically on his wobbly legs, looking frightened, bewildered, and lost…

The snake stirred, and then came after the fawn again. Sirius threw himself between the snake and the fawn, but just as he did, the snake thrust his fangs into his neck…

Sirius jolted awake. Regulus lay in bed beside him, still asleep, and he could see the sunlight creeping through a crack in the heavy velvet draperies. The clock on the dresser read ten minutes after nine.

Sirius panicked. He knew that he and Regulus had to be in the classroom no later than eight o'clock, and Grandfather Phineas was strict when it came to punctuality. The last time he and Regulus had been tardy, he had threatened to tell their father.

"Regulus," Sirius said frantically. "Regulus, wake up! We're late!"

Regulus opened his eyes, but before he could roll out of bed they heard a knock on the door. Seconds later, Kreacher entered, bearing a tray of hot tea, poached eggs, and toast. He set the tray on the dresser, and then glared nastily at the two boys.

"Master has stated that Young Masters Sirius and Regulus were no longer to sleep in the same room!" he said, shaking his head with disapproval.

Sirius swallowed guiltily, but Regulus found his voice:

"Please don't tell Father, Kreacher," he begged. "Besides, it was my fault, not Sirius's! I…I had a bad dream and got scared and snuck into bed with him while he was asleep!"

Kreacher looked at Sirius with contempt, but at Regulus with compassion.

"Very well," he replied. "Since Young Master Regulus asks Kreacher so respectfully, Kreacher promises not to tell Master or Mistress they ask him straight out, in which case Kreacher will have no choice."

"Thanks Kreacher!" Regulus said, bouncing out of the bed and hugging the house elf affectionately.

Kreacher seemed oddly touched by this small bit of affection, but chose not to show it. "Very well, then!" he grunted. "Eat your breakfasts, and be quick about it, both of you. The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black expects some most important company today."

Sirius sighed with relief. He knew now, at least, they would not be punished for sleeping late. "Really? Who?" Sirius asked, hoping Kreacher would say Uncle Alphard.

Kreacher brightened. "Why, Master Cygnus, Mistress Druella, and their three young misses: Bellatrix, Andromeda, and Narcissa!"

Kreacher kept talking, but Sirius' heart sank to the tips of his toes. He liked Andromeda well enough; she, at least, always tried to intercede whenever Bellatrix and Narcissa tormented them. He liked Aunt Druella far less, for her continuously glum disposition and unexpected emotional outbursts were enough to darken even the brightest summer day. Uncle Cygnus was tolerable. He often intervened when their father was angry with them, and Regulus adored him. But Sirius found Narcissa incredibly annoying, and he absolutely loathed Bellatrix.

The boys shared some particularly horrible memories of both of these cousins. Sirius remembered one incident, shortly after his fifth birthday, when his uncle and his family had gathered for Easter dinner at Grimmauld Place. While the boys were napping upstairs, Narcissa, then ten, decided that it would be simply lovely to have a tea party in the back garden. Andromeda played along quietly, but Bellatrix, who was already chaffed at having her younger sisters delegated to her care, was extremely furious at having to play along with what she had termed a "stupid and infantile charade."

The boys had wakened from their naps and wandered into the back garden just as Narcissa was getting bored. Sirius caught a gleam in Bellatrix' eye, and seconds later he and Regulus found their clothing transfigured into silly, frilly pink dresses. Then Bellatrix pointed her wand at Narcissa's doll carriage and shouted, "Engorgio!"

The carriage grew bigger, and in the blink of an eye, Sirius found himself and Regulus lying in it.

Narcissa giggled uncontrollably. Bellatrix cackled shrilly.

"Rock-a-bye babies…on the tree top…" she began, her voice loud and obnoxious.

" …when the wind blows…the cradle will rock…" Narcissa chimed in between her giggling fits.

Sirius tried to escape, but found that he couldn't move. He had no choice but to sit in utter humiliation, being pushed to and fro, while his cousins sang this bizarre lullaby.

Andromeda had disappeared, returning moments later with their father and Uncle Cygnus, who ordered Bellatrix to put things right. The boys' father had been furious, but Uncle Cygnus refused to punish his daughters.

"Oh, they'll get past it quickly enough, Brother-in-law!" he had chortled, slapping the boys' fuming father's back good-naturedly. "And it isn't like the Ministry will be coming down on you, the house being charmed as it is, is there?"

Uncle Cygnus cocked his eyebrow knowingly. The boys' father simply glared, but maintained his silence.

Another time, when they were older, Bellatrix had lured them up into the attic with the promise of a big surprise. Then she put a silencing charm on the room, hung them both upside down from the rafters, and then nonchalantly walked downstairs as they hung screaming. Fortunately, Andromeda had wandered up there, looking for a book or something, and once again came to their aid. She cast the charm to bring them down from the rafters, but both boys fell rather hard; Regulus breaking an ankle and Sirius, a wrist. The boys told Andromeda what had happened, and once again Andromeda relayed the story to their father and their uncle. The healers came to Grimmauld Place and mended their bones, and later, they were sent to bed without supper and Bellatrix went unpunished again, because she had sworn that the boys were lying, that they had put themselves up in the attic and placed the blame on her.

"Did you hear me, Young Master?" Kreacher snapped, shaking Sirius out of this foul reverie.

"I'm sorry," Sirius said hastily. "What were you saying?"

"Mistress has ordered that both of you bathe, put on your best suits, and be in the downstairs library by noon to greet our guests."

Kreacher snapped his fingers and vanished, and Sirius pulled a face.

"I'd rather be in the classroom all day," he said.

Regulus considered. "Maybe it won't be so bad this time," Regulus said hopefully. "Kreacher says the girls will all be making plans for the wedding, so maybe…if we can just stay away from them…"

"Wedding?" Sirius asked. "Who's getting married?

"Bella. Didn't you hear Kreacher? She's marrying someone named…Randolph or Rudolph or something like that."

"Ah," Sirius said, feeling quite relieved. Maybe if she had somebody her own age to torment, she would leave them both alone.

"Hey Sirius!" Regulus said brightly. "Do you think that maybe Bella's husband will take her down into the dungeon and cut out her heart? You know, like they did in the story?

Sirius wondered at the prospect, but then shook his head. "No. We wouldn't be so lucky. Besides, Bella's the one with the hairy heart."

Giggling, Regulus had to agree.

Two hours later, both boys sat stiffly in the high-backed dining room chairs, dressed in matching suits, waiting for their relatives to arrive through the floo network.

Sirius hated the suit passionately. Not only did the heavy fabric feel hot and scratchy against his skin, but the style hadn't been popular for decades. The top part of the shirt was green velvet; the bottom part and the long sleeves were green checkered wool, and a loose brown belt separated the top part of the shirt from the bottom. The britches, which were also cut from green checkered wool, fell just below the knees, covering the top of the itchy black socks which made Sirius' feet feel cramped and sweltering inside the black leather, high-topped shoes.

Uncle Alphard, Uncle Cygnus, Aunt Druella, and occasionally even their father had often suggested that their mother take the boys to Madame Malkin's to buy some new clothing, dress robes as well as casual wear. Their mother, however, saw no sense in squandering the family fortune in such a frivolous manner, in turn chiding Uncle Cygnus for constantly wasting thousands of galleons on new robes for his daughters. Thirteen-year-old Narcissa, she pointed out, was especially over-indulged, because she not only insisted upon updating her wardrobe every few months—with robes of the latest fashion, no less—but staunchly refused to wear any of her elder sisters discarded clothing, even to lounge about in. A travesty, the boys' mother insisted, when there were plenty of perfectly good clothes stored up in the attic, clothes that their very ancestors had worn, clothes that were fit for royalty! She had taken a great deal of pride in handing these precious heirlooms down to her sons, and often seemed shock that the others didn't share her sentiments.

Sirius heard a rumbling in the fireplace, and took his place in the receiving line between his mother and Regulus, waiting for their guests to arrive.

Uncle Cygnus shot through the fireplace feet first. He had pulled his straw-colored hair back from his pale, rugged face into a scraggly tail that hung above the hood of his flowing grey robes. No sooner had Kreacher cleaned the soot off his clothing than Aunt Druella arrived, wearing a tight green dress. As usual, she had twisted hair so tightly into a bun that Sirius often wondered if her dour face might split. She would have been a pretty, perhaps even beautiful woman, but unlike her daughters she rarely wore make-up, and always conveyed a mixture of despondency and anger; the latter always rearing its ugly head after she'd had a few drinks. Even as she stepped out of the fireplace, Sirius could see that she was unusually tense.

"Druella, dear," his mother welcomed her. She embraced her sister-in-law warmly, but Sirius recognized the icy undertones in her voice. Aunt Druella smile was equally false, and her tone equally insincere; never-the-less, she returned the greeting and the gesture.

"GODDAMMIT, I _HATE THE FUCKING FLOO NETWORK!"_

Out toppled Bellatrix in a disheveled heap on the floor, glaring and covered with soot, cursing and swearing as she struggled to stand and regain her composure. Angrily she turned on Kreacher. "GET THIS FILTH OFF OF ME BEFORE I MOUNT YOU ON THE WALL BESIDE THE OTHER ELVES!"

"Bellatrix!" his mother snapped angrily, glaring at her niece.

Bellatrix glared right back, her black eyes filled with anger and hatred, but Sirius noticed that it was Bellatrix, and not his mother, who looked away first. His mother's gaze softened as she looked at Kreacher, who bowed his head and proceeded to clean the soot from Bellatrix's dress. As he did, Sirius realized that she had probably spent a great deal of time preening before her mirror. She had teased her long, dark hair into a high ebony crown, yet several strands fell loose about her shoulders in long loose tendrils. Her heavy eye make-up, painted lips and nails, and black velvet, corseted gown, purchased especially for this occasion, contrasted sharply with her pale skin, making her look like a vampire. Her black eyes flashed angrily as she surveyed the rest of the family, giving Sirius the impression that she didn't want to be there anymore than he wanted her there.

Next came Narcissa, who picked herself off the floor and looked haughtily down her long thin nose at Kreacher, twisting her thin lips disdainfully until he had dutifully cleaned the soot of her emerald satin dress.

"My hair's mussed," she pouted. Again, Kreacher snapped his fingers, and every strand of her long blonde hair fell back into its proper place.

Finally Andromeda, the middle sister, tumbled out of the fireplace. After Kreacher cleaned the soot from her sky blue dress (for which Andromeda actually thanked him) Sirius, for the first time perhaps, noticed the physical similarities she shared with her elder sister. However, their personalities were so different that strangers might never have guessed that the two were related, even if they had seen them standing side by side. Andromeda carried herself straight and gracefully, but without the arrogance Sirius so despised in both Bellatrix and Narcissa. Her long wavy hair was neither dark nor golden, but a light brown, and fastened in the back with a bronze barret. Her face, although very similar to Bellatrix's, was actually much prettier, or so Sirius thought, since she hadn't spoiled it with layers and layers of make-up. Her gray eyes were warm and compassionate, qualities that Bellatrix's dark eyes and Narcissa's green eyes lacked.

"Hello Sirius, Regulus," she said pleasantly, embracing each boy in turn. Sirius, taken aback by this display of affection, returned the embrace never-the-less.

"Is everybody here now?" Orion asked.

"Well," Uncle Cygnus began. "Druella took the liberty of inviting someone here to help plan the wedding…I hope this will be all right with you, Burgie."

Their mother began to speak, but never finished. The fireplace rumbled once more, and out plopped a strangest little woman Sirius had ever seen. She appeared to be in her late thirties or early forties, perhaps, was rather frumpy, and dressed from head to toe in various shades of pink. Little brown pincurls peeped carefully from beneath her hot pink beret, and she giggled girlishly as Kreacher removed the soot from her pink plaid day suit. Even her stockings and her Mary Jane shoes were pink, and topped with perfect little pink bows. As he surveyed her, Sirius had to bite his lip to keep from laughing.

"Dolores?" Walburga said, taken aback. "Wha…what a pleasant surprise!"

The odd little woman clasped her pale pink gloved hands, a hot-pink, painted smile spreading across her puerile face. Something about her made Sirius nauseous, more so than the time he and Regulus had gorged themselves on the boxes of Honeyduke's Chocolates Uncle Alphard had given them at Christmas.

_"Dear _Walburga!" she trilled. "You never told me how _handsome_ your children are! You," she said, pinching Regulus' cheek, "have _got_ to be Sirius! And this…this _devilishly _handsome lad just _has_ to be Regulus!"

She reached out to pinch Sirius' cheek, and instinctively, Sirius ducked. "I'm Sirius," he blurted out, stepping away from the strange little pink woman.

"Sirius!" his father said sharply, glaring at him.

Sirius lowered his eyes and bit his lip. His father grew very angry when he contradicted his elders, and now, without realizing it, he'd done it again. "I'm sorry, Father," he said hastily.

His father turned to the little pink woman. I apologize, Madame Umbridge, for my son's impertinence, but he is, in fact, Sirius, and the younger boy is Regulus."

"Oh, silly me," Madame Umbridge giggled. "But such _handsome_ names they are, Orion, for such _handsome_ boy…" she trilled, looping her right arm over Sirius' shoulder and her left arm over Regulus's. "I do hope that we shall become _very_ good friends."

"Um…_why?" _Sirius blurted out before he could stop himself.

His father glared at him again, and Sirius bit his lip, wanting to shrivel all the way down to the toes of his cramped shoes. But before his father could say anything, Kreacher appeared in the doorway.

"I have tea and biscuits prepared in the library, Mistress," he bowed.

"Thank you kindly, Kreacher," his mother said pleasantly. "Ladies, if you'll follow me…"

"Or course!" twittered the little pink Umbridge woman. She turned to Bellatrix, placing a gloved hand on each of her shoulders even as Bellatrix recoiled. "I'm so excited for you, dear…think of all the _planning _we have to do to make your very special day absolutely _perfect!_ Now, you're going to be a beautiful bride, there's no doubt about that, but I personally think that a more…_classical_ hairstyle and understated make-up…"

Sirius bit his lip again as Bellatrix curled hers. She glowered at her mother as the silly little Umbridge woman looped her arm around her waist and escorted her from the dining room, scowling back at the boys as the door closed behind them.

Sirius started to giggle, but realized his father was glaring at him. But before his father could chide him, Uncle Cygnus spoke:

"Orion, about the Conference of Tirana..."

"Ah, yes," his father replied. "Burgie and I plan to attend, but the children are still too young, don't you think?"

"I plan to take the girls," Cygnus replied quickly. "Bellatrix, in fact, seems to be more excited about this than her own wedding!"

"I wasn't talking about your girls, Cygnus, I was talking about my boys. Regulus will probably stay here with Kreacher, and _this_ one," he pointed at Sirius, "will be staying with your brother, but only if he behaves in the meantime."

Sirius' heart leaped into his chest. He didn't know what the Conference of Tirana was about, but he knew it was going to last an entire week! And a week with his favorite uncle was exactly what Sirius had been craving!

"You couldn't persuade Alphard to come with us, then?" asked Uncle Cygnus, disappointment in his voice.

"Why does that surprise you?" his father replied.

"It doesn't. Still, I keep hoping that he might change his views..."

"As do I, but from what Burgie tells me it isn't likely…Sirius, Regulus, why don't the two of you go outside and play for a bit?"

Sirius could barely believe his ears. Today was turning out better than he dared hope. "Can we play in the meadow?" he asked hopefully.

His father considered for a moment. "I suppose so. But be careful not to dirty your clothes."

"We won't," Sirius replied.

"We promise," Regulus added.

Sirius opened the front door to the most beautiful spring day he'd seen in a long time. The earlier rains had cleared, the sun was shining brightly in the vivid blue sky, and the cool air had just a hint of warmth from early summer. Perfect camping weather, Uncle Alphard would have said.

The boys played "Hide-and-go-Seek," a game Uncle Alphard had taught them, for about an hour. When they grew bored with that, they played "Tag," slipping and sliding about on the damp ground, staining the seats and knees of their trousers. They climbed a tree and swung from the branches like monkeys; Sirius tearing his sleeve and Regulus, the front of his shirt. But neither of them paid any attention, for both of them were having more fun than they'ed had in a very long time.

"I need to use the toilet!" Sirius said suddenly, dropping from the tree branch onto his hands and knees into the soft wet grass.

"Me too!" Regulus said, climbing down the tree a bit more cautiously.

"Hurry up! We'll race!" Sirius suggested.

Regulus lost his footing, fell flat on the seat of his pants, and then scrambled to his feet. The two boys raced into the house, slamming the entrance door, and then darted upstairs to the nearest bathroom. On the way downstairs they heard the crash of breaking china from the library, followed by a shrill, angry screech:

"I'VE TOLD YOU A THOUSAND TIMES, MOTHER, _I WILL NOT WEAR WHITE!"_

"Come on, Reg," Sirius said, tugging his younger brother's shirt. "This will be good!"

The boys knelt in front of the double doors that lead to the library, each of them peeking into a keyhole. Narcissa and Andromeda had placed their teacups on the table and sat there still as stone. Aunt Druella stood holding a satin dress, tears filling her wide brown eyes, while her eldest daughter glared at her, her ebony eyes flashing even darker with fury. Through the closed doors they could still hear a catch in Aunt Druella's voice:

"It's an ivory dress, Bella," she said calmly.

"THAT'S STILL WHITE!" Bella shrieked again.

"We could always change the color, dear," their mother said.

"What a splendid idea, Walburga!" the Umbridge woman trilled, smiling in her sweet, sickening way. "Now personally, I would think that a nice shade of the palest baby pink…"

"NOBODY ASKED YOUR OPINION, YOU SIMPERING OLD BITCH!" Bellatrix screeched.

The little pink Umbridge woman gasped. From what he could see, Andromeda's and Narcissa's chins dropped almost to the floor. "Sirius, what's a simpering old…" Regulus whispered.

"Shh!" Sirius replied, as their mother cleared her throat.

"Ladies," said cooly. "Will you please excuse us for a moment? I think my niece is a bit…overexcited, that's all. Come Bella, let's go into the dining room."

Both boys darted around the corner of the stairwell, flattening themselves against the wall as their mother and Bellatrix entered dining room. Conveniently, there was another set of double doors by the entrance, with a keyhole for each of them to press their eyes against.

"Sit," Sirius heard his mother command. To his surprise, Bellatrix obeyed.

"Young lady, I've tried to be understanding with you, but I've told you many times that I will never tolerate your blatant rudeness towards guests in my home."

"I didn't invite the old bitch!" Bellatrix spat.

"Nor did I, Bellatrix. If the truth were known, I don't want her here one iota more than you do!"

"Then why don't you throw her out on her fat pink arse?"

Bella, I can't do that! She is our guest, and a pure-blood at that! Surely you realize what a poor reflection that would cast upon our family!"

Bellatrix sniffed, dabbing the corners of her painted eyes with her fingertips, a superficial act, Sirius was certain. "I'm sorry, Aunt Burgie, but you know I detest pink! And I _refuse_ to wear that hideous gown! I simply _refuse!"_

"It was your mother's gown, and your grandmother's, and your great-grandmother's before that. A true Rosier family heirloom. You should be proud to…"

"It's still hideous, Rosier heirloom or not!" Bellatrix pouted. "Besides, I couldn't wear it! My bust is too large!"

Walburga lowered her eyes. "You definitely have a point there," she said. "Still, we could…"

"This is _my_ wedding, Auntie!" Bellatrix snapped. "_Not_ yours, _not_ Mother's, and certainly not that stupid little woman's, and I'LL WEAR WHAT I DAMMED WELL PLEASE!"

"But…what of LeStrange? Don't you think he might prefer it if you wore something a little more…"

"To hell with what he prefers! It's bad enough I even have to marry him!"

Bellatrix bit her lip, as if to trap very words that had escaped her mouth. Their mother looked concerned, and then grasped Bellatrix's hand.

"Nobody is forcing you to, Child."

"I'm not a child, Auntie, and they most certainly are! Father arranged it, after all…"

"In a sense, yes, but he won't force you to go through with it if it isn't what you want. I was under the impression that you loved LeStrange. You do, don't you Bella?"

"No," she snorted derisively.

"Then don't marry him," Walburga said calmly.

"You don't understand! I _must!"_

"But why, if you don't love him? Are you…?  
_"No! _Absolutely _not!"_

"Are you certain? Because there _are _things that can be done…nobody would ever…"

"If I ever find myself in that condition I'll get rid of the little bastard, married or not! Last thing I want is a horde of screeching, snot-nosed brats putting their sticky hands all over me!"

"Then why even marry LeStrange if you don't love him, if you don't want his children? Is he trying to force you?"

"No!"

"Then why, Bella? Why?"

Bellatrix blinked, lowering her head, and made what almost seemed a confession. "Because it's the only way I ever _will_ get what I want!"

"What you want?" their mother repeated slowly, her eyes widening as the meaning behind Bellatrix's words dawned upon her. "You mean…you mean _him?"_

Bellatrix smiled.

"But Bella…that's…that's…"  
"Perfect," Bellatrix finished softly, as a conniving smile stretched across her face.

"But…he doesn't even know you exist!"

"He will, Auntie! I'll make certain of it! They're friends, you know, he and LeStrange. It's only a matter of time before…"

"So that's your master plan…to use LeStrange to get near _him?"_

Bellatrix smiled wickedly. "And what's wrong with that?"

"Bella," their mother said sorrowfully. "Bella…that's just…"

"Wrong?" Bellatrix finished.

"Well…yes!" their mother replied. "On every possible level!"

"And that should bother me because LeStrange is such a good, kind, loving, patient man!"

Their mother sighed. "I'll admit he's a bit of a scoundrel, Bella, but it's still so very wrong, and so likely to backfire…"

"That's my risk," Bellatrix said simply. "Not yours!"

Their mother was silent. "I really should speak to your father about this."

"That won't stop me."

"It might if he tells LeStrange," their mother said calmly.

"You really think so? LeStrange happens to love me, so it won't take much on my part to convince him that Father was lying. And just think of the social damage it would create for both Father and Uncle Orion, _especially_ at the Ministry!"

Their mother pursed her thin lips. "Very well," she said softly. "I'll say nothing, on the condition that you immediately apologize to Madam Umbridge. Have we a bargain?"

"You _will_ say nothing, Auntie, and I _won't_ apologize! But…I suppose I _could_ be persuaded to refrain from rudeness…as long as she and mother stop trying to force me into that hideous dress."

"I shall speak to them," their mother nodded. "But you're not to marry in black, Bellatrix. That brings bad luck."

Bellatrix sighed. "Emerald then? With black lace trim?"

Their mother frowned, then nodded and looped her around Bellatrix's shoulders. The two of then returned to the library together, closing the doors behind them.

No sooner had Sirius and Regulus stood up than their father and uncle stepped through the front door, seeing them in all of their disheveled glory…

"I thought I told you boys not to get dirty," their father said.

Sirius and Regulus dropped their heads and looked shamefacedly at the carpeted floor until Uncle Cygnus spoke:

"Now Orion, don't let's make a mountain troll out of a flobberworm," he said, removing his wand from his robes. _"Limpiado,"_ he said, and the boys found their clothing clean and mended.

Orion didn't look pleased, but he didn't look as angry either. "Go to your rooms. Both of you," he ordered shortly. "And don't come out until I call you for tea."

"Yes Father," both boys said in unison.

His bedroom was dark, hot, and stuffy. Sirius didn't dare draw back the heavy velvet draperies or open the windows for fear of stirring his father's ire. He hoped that perhaps, just perhaps, if he behaved himself for the rest of the day, he might still be able to go to Uncle Alphard's. He might, he still might…

Uncle Alphard's house—which he'd christened Golden Vale—looked like it might have once been part of a small castle, sitting high upon a hill that overlooked a lake. His parents found the stone, partially renovated structure absolutely despicable, but Sirius thought it was Heaven! There the pine-scented air drifted in freely through the open windows and studying, along with formal meals and split pea soup, simply ceased to exist. There he could run through the house if he wished, wear the tatty clothes his uncle kept on hand for him, and could climb trees and swim in the lake until well after dark. There he didn't have to go to bed or wake up at any given time, although Sirius was usually too invigorated by the mountain air to want to linger in bed long after dawn.

Sirius never wanted to return to Grimmauld Place after these visits. He wished he could stay at Golden Vale forever. Once, he even found the courage to ask his mother if he might. His mother had been furious, calling him a nasty, ungrateful little brat before banishing him to his room until tea, at which she had repeated his request to his father. His father simply nodded and promised to take care of the matter. He didn't punish Sirius, but he made it very clear that Sirius was never to ask such a thing again.

"Young Master," Kreacher said from the doorway, "Tea is served."

Sirius sat beside Regulus and across the table from Andromeda and Narcissa. The four younger children ate their meal in silence while their mother, Aunt Druella, Bellatrix, and the little pink Umbridge woman continued to make plans for the wedding. More than once, Bellatrix glared at the little pink woman, causing her to cower, something Bellatrix seemed to relish. Their father and Uncle Cygnus exchanged a few words about goings-on at the Ministry, but it was the women who monopolized the conversation.

After dinner, Uncle Cygnus handed Regulus a deck of cards and suggested the two boys play exploding snap on the front walk. Sirius felt hurt by the implied favoritism, but was happy enough to join his brother. Within the hour, Andromeda and Narcissa stepped outside.

"Might we join you?" Andromeda asked.

"Do you know how to play?" Sirius asked.

"I do," Andromeda winked. "We can all teach Cissy."

The girls pulled back their hair, and then gathered around the cards with the boys. Andromeda was an excellent player, but Narcissa seemed too concerned about mussing her dress to enjoy herself. The first time a card exploded in her face, she seemed to leap out of her skin, then fell backwards into the grass. Andromeda laughed. Regulus laughed louder, and Sirius laughed the loudest.

"You vile, slimy, filthy little flobberworms!" Narcissa spat angrily.

Sirius only laughed louder, mimicking what she said.

"How wonderful to see the two of you getting along so well, especially since you're next in line."

Sirius looked up to see his eldest cousin smiling wickedly. He had been unaware that she'd been watching them.

"Next in line?" he repeated, wrinkling is brow. "For what?"

"Haven't you heard?" Bellatrix said. "The two of you have betrothed!"

"Be_what?"_ Sirius said, wrinkling his nose.

"It's true," Narcissa said, picking up her cue. "I hope you're as happy about it as I am!"

"Happy about what?" Sirius demanded.

"We're…going to be married, Sirius," Narcissa said enthusiastically. "When we both older…isn't that wonderful?"

"We…we _can't!"_ Sirius stammered. "We're…we're _cousins!"_

"So are your parents!" Bellatrix quipped. "That didn't stop them. In fact, it's rather…encouraged amongst our kind...keeps the bloodlines pure!"

"But…I don't want to marry her!" Sirius said, wrinkling his nose. "It would be too…too weird."

"Well, there's no escaping it now, for either of you. Our fathers have made the unbreakable vow and there's nothing you can do…"

"Oh Bella?" Narcissa said sweetly, as Sirius' jaw fell in shock. "Since you don't want to wear Mother's wedding dress, would you mind terribly if _I_ did?"

Bellatrix bit her lip thoughtfully. "I suppose not. It might actually become you, since you'll probably never be as fully endowed as I."

Narcissa's eyes sparked at the insult Sirius didn't fully understand. Bellatrix seemed to notice it also, and continued:

"Then again, you may catch up. You'll have to wait five years, you know, until Sirius is thirteen…"

_"Thirteen?" _Sirius repeated in disbelief, his jaw dropping even lower. "I can't get married at thirteen…"

"Oh yes you can," Bellatrix smiled. "As long as one of the parties is of age…and Cissa will be by then…"

"But…but…" Sirius stammered, trying to think another reason he and Narcissa shouldn't marry.

Bellatrix approached him and placed her hand on his shoulder. "I know it's painful, having to wait for so long to marry the one you love…"

Sirius snapped. He pushed Bellatrix's hand off of his shoulder, looked her straight in the eye, and said the worst thing he could think of:

"I wouldn't marry that mudblood whore if she were the last bitch on Earth!"

Narcissa paled, then blinked, her eyes filling with tears. Even Andromeda looked horrified. Bellatrix was absolutely livid.

"You'll pay for that one, Cousin!" she spat. "Come, Cissa!" she said, looping her arm around her youngest sister and escorting her into the house. Sirius and Regulus remained behind with Andromeda, as a dreadful silence enveloped them.

The silence seemed to last for an eternity. Andromeda looked shocked, and Regulus, alarmed. "W-what did I say?" Sirius finally spoke, unable to bear the silence any longer.

"Oh Sirius," Andromeda replied, her voice reflecting both sympathy and disappointment. _"Anything_ would have been better than _that."_

The silence continued. "'Dromeda?" Regulus asked. "What's a mudblood whore?"

"I don't know, Reg," Andromeda answered quickly, shaking her head. "And neither does your brother."

"Is it something really bad?" Regulus persisted.

"Yes, Regulus," Andromeda replied. "It's something very, very, _very_ bad!"

Sirius lowered his eyes as dread filled his heart. Twilight had turned to darkness—a darkness that grew ever more threatening as storm clouds brewed above them. He knew that he would be punished, probably more severely than he'd ever been punished before. And for the first time in his life, he found himself wishing that whatever the punishment would be, that his parents would just get on with it.

He heard the clock chime seven times. A few moments later, Kreacher appeared:

"Master said the three of you are to come to the library," he said simply.

Slowly, deliberately, they obeyed. Once they got to the doorway, they waited until Aunt Druella spotted them.

"Children!" she said pleasantly. "We're having tea and biscuits before Madam Umbridge leaves us…come join us, please."

Tea and biscuits with the little pink Umbridge woman? That didn't seem too bad a punishment, at least not under the circumstances. Carefully, Sirius took the china cup and plate that Kreacher offered him, sipping his tea and nibbling slowly on a cream filled wafer. The adults made a bit of small talk, about the wedding, current events, and other matters, leading Sirius to hope that the incident would be overlooked.

Suddenly, Sirius became aware that his father was speaking to him. He swallowed the bit of tea in his mouth and answered, in his most respectful tone, "Yes Father?" "When you were outside, you…said something to your cousin Narcissa, did you not?"

Sirius twisted his mouth. "Yes sir," he replied.

"I see," his father said. "And would you mind telling us exactly _what_ you said?"

Sirius swallowed, fully aware that everybody in the room had fixed their eyes upon him. He tried to tell them he didn't remember what he had said, but for some reason he couldn't. "That…that I wouldn't marry that mudblood whore if she were the last bitch on Earth," he whispered.

"Speak louder, son," his father said. "I…didn't quite understand you."

"That I wouldn't marry that mudblood whore if she were the last bitch on Earth," Sirius repeated.

Bellatrix looked extremely smug, but his mother, Aunt Druella, and Madam Umbridge gasped. Uncle Cygnus' eye flashed with anger, and Narcissa dabbed dramatically hers. Andromeda's were filled with dread, and Regulus's, with fear.

"I see," Orion said. "Now…will you mind telling me this: from whom exactly did you ever _hear_ such a phrase?"

"From Mother," Sirius blurted out, before realizing what he had said.

Orion's eyes widened, but he actually seemed a bit amused as he looked at his chagrined wife.

"This is a trick!" Bellatrix snapped. "He must have guessed you were going to put Veritaserum in the tea!"

Sirius had heard of Veritaserum before, but didn't really understand what it was or how it worked. He started to say this, but his mother interrupted his thought. "I think you're right, Bella," she said. "I certainly never use such foul language!"

"Yes you do!" Sirius blurted out, before he could stop himself. "You say it all the time when you think I'm asleep! I _hear_ you!"

His mother blanched, and her eyes were furious. As she rose from her chair, Sirius started from his own, but his father thwarted both of them.

"Go to your room, Son," his father said, "and stay there until I'm ready to deal with you."

_"Hem hem_," trilled the little pink Umbridge woman. "Under the circumstances, Orion, might I suggest…"

"I'll punish my children as I feel right, Madam Umbridge," his father said shortly. "How I choose to do so is none of your concern." He then looked at Sirius. "Upstairs! Now!"

Sirius hung his head in shame and slowly trudged up the four flights of stairs to his bedroom. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Narcissa approaching her father, but whatever she might have said was drowned out by his mother's screeching:

"I'LL HAVE YOUR FATHER WHIP YOU TILL YOUR BACK IS BLOODY, YOU SNIVELING, UNGRATEFUL LITTLE SNOT! AND YOU CAN FORGET ABOUT GOING TO YOUR UNCLE'S HOUSE…YOU CAN FORGET ABOUT GOING TO YOUR UNCLE'S HOUSE _EVER…"_

Finally, his mother's screeching died down. Sirius sat on the foot of his bed, furious with her, his father, his cousins, and that stupid little woman in pink. He was even more furious with himself. Uncle Alphard had once advised him to walk away from Bellatrix and Narcissa when they pulled such stunts, he thought, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Why, oh why, did he always have to react when they provoked him?

"Because if you didn't, you'd feel lower than a flobberworm beneath their feet!" the mirror answered.

"That's no lie," Sirius said glumly.

The worst part of his father's punishments was the waiting, the dreading. The hands on the clock moved at an excruciating pace; the minutes seeming like hours. Sirius desperately needed to use the toilet, but if he wasn't in the room when his father arrived he might be punished worse…

"There's always the window," suggested the mirror.

Sirius took the unsolicited advice, pouring his heartfelt sentiments out on the grounds of the Noble and Most Ancient house of Black, hoping that the little pink Umbridge woman might step in the puddle on her way home. He heard footsteps, and then the doorknob rattled. He managed to shut the window, but the door opened before he finished buttoning his drawers…

Sirius turned, expecting to face his father in his full wrath. Instead, Andromeda stood there, holding a nightgown. "The guest rooms are all full, Regulus' bed is too small, and your father doesn't want him sleeping with you," she said by way of explanation. "Do you mind if I do?"

Sirius shook his head. "I'll just get in more trouble."

"No you won't," Andromeda said quickly. "Narcissa told our fathers that she and Bellatrix started it, so they're not going to punish you."

"Can I still go to Uncle Alphard's?" Sirius asked.

"Well, no," Andromeda said. "But Aunt Burgie said she might let you the next time they have to go away."

Sirius hung his head. He would have much rather taken the whipping.

"I really don't want to sleep on the drawing-room couch," Andromeda said. "That room is always so chilly and I can never get comfortable. Mother said I might ask you…would you mind?"

"I guess not," Sirius shrugged.

Andromeda went into the bathroom to change while Sirius put on his pajamas. When she emerged, Sirius saw she was wearing a long blue nightgown, and her long brown hair cascaded down her shoulders in waves. She wasn't only pretty, he realized, but truly beautiful. For the first time in his life, something deep and mysterious stirred within him, something he could neither explain nor understand, yet frightened him all the same.

"Would you like me to read you a story?" Andromeda asked.

It had been years since anybody had made such an offer. Had Bellatrix or Narcissa asked him this, he would have felt wary if not insulted, but Andromeda had always been kind. "I guess so," he said.

Andromeda pulled _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_ off the shelf, but refused to read"The Warlock's Hairy Heart," when Sirius requested it. "Wouldn't you rather hear 'The Tale of the Three Brothers?" Andromeda asked. "That other story always gave me nightmares."

Sirius relented, and Andromeda began reading, "Once upon a time there were three brothers who were travelling down a long, winding road at midnight…"

Sirius knew the story by heart. Andromeda's voice had a soothing, melodious quality about it, which helped him forget the tensions of the past few hours. "Andie," he said, once she put the book down, "What exactly is a mudblood whore?"

Andromeda seemed very uncomfortable. "You must never use the word 'mudblood,' Sirius," she said simply. "Especially not at Hogwarts. The headmaster hates it, and so does the deputy headmistress."

"But what does it mean?"

"It's a foul word for a wizard or a witch whose parents are muggles. It isn't said in polite conversation."

"But Andie," Sirius continued. "Mother _did_ say it, and I've heard…"

"I know," Andromeda said, softly and sadly. "I've heard my parents use it, too, but their conversations aren't always polite, now are they?"

No, come to mention it, they weren't, Sirius thought.

"I have friends who are muggleborns, Sirius, and so does Uncle Alphard. That particular word is very hurtful, to them, to me, and to him."

"Oh. I'm sorry," Sirius said, dropping his eyes. Now that he thought about it, he realized that he had never once heard Uncle Alphard use that expression. "I…didn't know…honest! But what does 'whore' mean?"

Andromeda seemed taken aback, but quickly regained her composure. "That's just…a woman who does things…with men…many men…things that she shouldn't."

"What things?"

"I can't tell you, Sirius. But you shouldn't say that word either."

"Okay," Sirius agreed. "Andie, can I ask a question?"

"Sure."

"You…you said that Bella and Cissy made all that up to make me mad…you don't think our parents would…really…make Cissy and me get married, do you?"

"No," Andromeda assured him with a slight laugh. "Cissy doesn't like the idea any more than you do. Besides, there's a boy at school she likes, and Father said he'd arrange things."

"Who is he?" Sirius wanted to know.

"Oh, he's from a very rich family, Sirius, one of the richest families in our world! His name is Lucius Malfoy."


End file.
